


boy problems

by raincheck (seungmin)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungmin/pseuds/raincheck
Summary: Jaemin harrumphs and stalks down the next Bloomingdale's aisle. “You don’t understand—onlyI’mallowed to have a glow up.”(Or: Jisung wasn’t supposed to get hot when Jaemin abandoned him for college.)





	boy problems

**Author's Note:**

> saw a tweet long ago abt how jaemin + jisung are just oikawa + kageyama respectively and i screeched—this isn’t that au bc i could never do it justice but a) it’s worth saying that i want it and b) i couldn’t get that idea out of my head so i came up w/this instead
> 
>  **BRIEF WARNING FOR:** inappropriate humor (i guess jaem + college = horndog???) aka the dreamies make some sex jokes—if ur not comfy w/that click away now or consider yourself warned! 
> 
> set in america, title from boy problems by carly rae jepsen

“I just want you to know,” Jaemin huffs with no small amount of indignation, balancing precariously on his tiptoes, “that if I end up with anything less than an A on this paper, the blame rests solely on you and your scrawny-ass shoulders.”

“Where is this coming from?” Donghyuck frowns, eyebrows creased like one of those pointy owls Jaemin had written about for his BIO101 class. If memory serves him right, they never shut up or did anything useful, like, oh, maybe helping Jaemin find the book he needs for his research paper, which is coincidentally worth a fourth of his grade? Instead Donghyuck stands to his left picking at his nails with the ferocity of a moody, hair-dye-wanting teenager faced with unrelenting parents. Jaemin knows. He’s seen it before.

“Did you make fun of Renjun and his promised vengeance finally got a chance to reveal itself? Man,” Donghyuck grins, “I wish I’d been there to see that.”

“I would never.” Jaemin shoots him a look. “Shoulders as wide as the sea, remember?”

Donghyuck lets his face go slack and brings a palm up. “He who lights up the world.” 

Jaemin snorts, turning back to the shelves to hide his smile. Wall Street brokers are jealous of the trajectory of Donghyuck’s ego. If it inflated any more, the economy would go spinning. Jaemin’s not willing to fuel the fire, but he cocks his head to the side and considers it—maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Renjun would at least have one less conspiracy theory to obsessively google when the clock strikes midnight. He turns around to tell Donghyuck this but never quite gets there, because:

First: He catches sight of someone slumped over on one of the library tables, the sleeves of his hoodie pulled past his hands. His—friend? Boyfriend?— _something_ is babbling animatedly at him, though Jaemin doubts that the guy’s actually taking anything in when his hood is yanked over his eyes. Even when he’s curled himself around the table’s edge, Jaemin can tell that he’s lanky—his legs stretch unbidden under the table, knocking into the other guy’s knees. As he laughs, his hood falls back to reveal a small, tight smile and copper bangs. Jaemin’s eyes widen. Wait a second. Isn’t that…?

And second: He stumbles backwards and sends the shelves he’d been looking at toppling like dominoes, circa Russian Roulette MV.

Donghyuck shrieks, jumping back like he’s been burnt. “What the hell did you do?”

The librarian, who’d rushed over after grabbing whatever was nearest to her looks like she wants to ask the same thing but with more expletives. The ruler creaks dangerously in her hands.

“Sorry,” Jaemin murmurs. In the quiet of the library, his voice echoes. Donghyuck makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Jaemin?”

And _oh_ , Jaemin really wishes he could go back to ten minutes ago, when his biggest worry was finding the next book on his list in order to not get slaughtered by his TA instead of being mere moments away from—whatever this is.

He grimaces and turns his head. Copper bangs flop into view. “Hi Jisung.” Jaemin’s cheeks are starting to ache from smiling rigidly. “Didn’t see you there.”

 

 

Here’s the thing: Jaemin knows Jisung. 

How could he not? Their moms had been roommates in grad school after both opting for international student housing and it’d been history ever since. He’s sat through enough Korean school carpool rides, New Year’s parties (Gregorian and Lunar), Superbowl nights, and more to know Jisung by now. Hell, Jisung’s the reason why Jaemin knows what the ferocity of a moody, hair-dye-wanting teenager faced with unrelenting parents looks like. Evidently, based off of the copper locks that he’d seen in the library, Jisung had come out of that one victorious.

“How was I supposed to know he went here?” Jaemin huffs and brings his laptop out to the kitchen, where he can simultaneously fix himself a seriously-needed dose of caffeine and watch his mom’s eyes narrow in 144p resolution. “I don’t keep tabs on him like some kind of FBI agent.”

“Well,” his mom begins, but Jaemin’s paying more attention to Renjun sitting up suddenly from his spot on the couch with stars in his eyes. 

Jaemin will not lose another roommate to his mom’s whims. “No,” he says sternly to Renjun, who shrinks in on himself in response. “If you knew all along,” he mutters, turning back to the camera and stirring his coffee with a chopstick, “why didn’t you tell me, your lovely son?”

“Mrs. Park told us last year during Christmas in Colorado,” his mom says. “You were there.”

And oh. Jaemin _maaaybe_ has a recollection of facing a severe lecture from his mom after tossing Jisung down a double black diamond to check it out first before he himself went down.

(“He was collateral,” Jaemin had shrugged, steadfastly keeping his eyes trained on the ceiling.

“I didn’t mind, Mrs. Na!” 

His mom had scowled in disbelief. “Do you even know what that means?”)

“I don’t remember that,” he says automatically. “I can’t trust my own memory on a semi-permanent basis, just out of principle.”

“You took psych,” Renjun grumbles under his breath. “We get it.” Jaemin blows a kiss at him in response and then instantly regrets it.

“Well,” his mom begins, for the second time in their ten minute Skype call. Renjun loosens his chokehold to let Jaemin breathe at the camera. “Now you know. Jisung goes to the same school as you. Why?” She asks, eyebrows furrowed. “Did you see him, or something?”

_Or something._

“End me,” Jaemin pleads, tugging on Renjun’s hands, which are still wrapped around his neck. “Please.”

 

 

Emotional spending may be generally frowned upon by his mom, his psych professor, and his credit score, but it works temporary wonders for his well being—which is why Friday afternoon finds him at their nearest outlet, accompanied by Jeno (invited) and Donghyuck (not invited).

Maybe it should be slightly concerning that his best support system is the icy death grip of capitalism and coffee, but no matter. Jaemin has bigger fish to fry. Like:

“Why is it such a big deal that this kid is hot?” Donghyuck hooks his chin over Jeno’s shoulder. It’s supposed to be cute, but all Jaemin can do is wince for Jeno’s shoulder. Donghyuck is _bony_. 

“Get off of me,” Jeno grumbles, caveman-esque. He shoves Donghyuck and sends him sprawling into a stack of on-sale sneakers. This is why Jeno was invited.

Jaemin harrumphs and stalks down the next Bloomingdale’s aisle. “You don’t understand—only _I’m_ allowed to have a glow up.”

“You didn’t.” 

This is why Donghyuck wasn’t.

“Did you know he actually goes to KSA meetings? And not just for the parties?” Jaemin flips through a rack of jeans that look vaguely like he could wear them without having to worry about hippie comparisons. “That’s so endearing.”

“How do you know that?” Jeno wrinkles his nose at Jaemin’s offering. No jeans it is. “Did you stalk him?”

Jaemin whistles and floats to the next store.

“He so did!”

Okay, so Jaemin might’ve pulled up Jisung’s Instagram the other day. 

And his Snapchat, Twitter, Facebook, Spotify, VSCO, Venmo—he’s losing way too much money to Chenle, whoever that is. Jaemin’s going to have to look into that. But either way, Donghyuck’s claims are totally unfounded, because:

“I just happened to be on the Facebook page,” he shrugs. “Pure coincidence.”

“You didn’t even know what the KSA was until this year,” Jeno sighs exasperatedly. “You said so yourself!”

(“The KSA? Is that some sort of sex position?” / “How do you even—just shush! My TA’s gonna hear you and be too weirded out to write me a good rec, and then it’ll be your fault that I’ll have to prematurely drop out of med school to become a camstar—” / “I think you’d make a very sexy camstar—” / “—which is why someone should just take one for the team and extricate your tongue for the greater good. God.” / “Why would your TA care? It’s not like he’s—” / “—the president of the club?” / “Eep!” / “I’m so sorry Taeyong, I have no idea who he is.”)

“Jaemin’s dumb, we know.” Donghyuck looks entirely too happy about this. “But back to the point: why’s this guy different? You’re not the type to freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“The pillow you’re holding suggests otherwise.”

Jaemin glances down and finds his hands bunched in Egyptian cotton. He releases his grip slowly. Unlike Jisung, Jaemin can’t afford to lose money willy-nilly. 

“I think he’s taller than me now. That’s not fair,” Jaemin crosses his arms, huffy. _He’s_ supposed to be the one in basketball who has to lose graciously to protect the other’s ego. He’s not ready for some kind of reverse alternate universe where _Jisung_ beats him. “Height is only for the worthy.”

“You think you’re hot shit just because you’re on the better half of 175cm?” Donghyuck smirks, pulls out his phone. “I’m telling Renjun you said that.”

“Don’t you dare! I have your mom on speed-dial and she loves me.”

Donghyuck shrugs and continues swiping. “That makes one person.”

Jeno reaches out and snatches Donghyuck’s phone, effectively ending their catfight. “Stop getting distracted. Jaemin, if you’re so worked up about this guy, then why don’t you talk to him? You’re family friends, right?” Jeno’s eyes are getting more smiley as he theorizes. “Maybe you guys could reconnect.”

“You watch too many rom-coms,” Donghyuck retorts.

“It’s worth a shot!” Jeno grins. “You have nothing to lose.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jaemin decides—kind of. What can he say? His psych class royally screwed with any kind of executive functioning he had. If he was indecisive before, he’s sure as hell a lot worse now. Jisung can wait—especially because he still has yet to blow the rest of his weekly budget on fashion week knockoffs. 

(Though judging from Jeno’s whines at him to hurry up, he’s not going to get that far. Next time he’ll stick to online shopping. Amazon does same-day shipping on endorphins too, right?)

 

 

Okay, so Jaemin’s thinking about it.

Jeno’s suggestion is tempting—a simple heart-to-heart à la Chicken Soup for the (Confused but Kind of Turned On?) Soul may indeed be what’s necessary to push him and Jisung from childhood friends by convenience to something more along the lines of _hey i’d shove my tongue down your throat (and maybe other things too ;)) if you’d let me xoxo nana_ —but there’s too many unknowns for Jaemin to seriously consider going through with it.

For instance: does Jisung like guys?

“No way,” Jaemin declares, head lolled sideways on the table. “He was a very panicky kid. Flighty too. Like, one wrong word would spook him?” It’s Friday afternoon and he’s sitting out the frat party down the street to debate the likelihood of Jisung realizing that with enough time, anything can be bent—exciting stuff. 

“Nuh-uh,” Donghyuck snaps his gum with each word. “His Tinder profile definitely says otherwise.”

Record scratch. “His what?”

Donghyuck draws the word out, a little too smugly for his Duolingo English: “Tin-duh-er.” 

“I know what Tinder is,” Jaemin snaps. “Why the hell does _Jisung_ have one?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He’s in college now.” Donghyuck shrugs. “It was only a matter of time.”

“Oh my god he’s so old,” Jaemin sinks back into his chair. “ _I’m_ so old.” Time is a flighty mistress indeed—he could’ve sworn it was only just last month that he’d been flapping Jisung’s cheeks to get him to stop crying. (It never really worked. Apparently, the grief of accidentally choosing the wrong Pokémon starter was too great to be overcome by cheek antics.)

“It’s only a two year age difference, right?” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrows. “That’s not too bad. You can’t even call yourself a cougar.”

“I’m not a cougar!” Jaemin’s voice squeaks sharply. The coffee isn’t doing enough for his nerves. He goes to take another sip but then pauses, because: “How do _you_ know he’s on Tinder?”

Donghyuck’s grin is downright predatory. “He swiped right on me. Surprise, bitch!”

“I rue the day you were born.” Jaemin hisses, hands curling tighter around his cup of coffee. “I can’t believe God really put you on this Earth just to make me suffer.”

“Oh?” Donghyuck cups a hand to his ear, “did you go to church with your mom when she was in town? That’s the most religious thing I’ve ever heard you say—it’s a shame it’s only coming out now when you’re thirsting over a freshman.” 

Jaemin makes an aborted noise in the back of his throat. “Why are you doing this to me?” 

Donghyuck ignores him by strolling into the kitchen and Jaemin lets out a mildly offended huff, like lemonade with too much juice. He comes back with a bottle from Renjun’s stash under the sink though, so Jaemin can’t be _that_ mad about it. 

“Here,” Donghyuck pops the bottle, “a toast. May you someday _beep_ his ass.”

“Beep?”

“Beep,” Donghyuck nods solemnly.

Jaemin shrugs. He’ll drink to that.

 

 

Tuesday, 9:43AM

 **from: donghyuck**  
jaemin where ARE YOU !!!???!?!9

 **from: donghyuck**  
im not savign ur seat anymore bitch

 **from: donghyuck**  
[photo]

 **from: donghyuck**  
look jaem this is the precious seat that i have safeguarded for u since freshman year

 **from: donghyuck**  
what a shame it would be if something were to,,,,

 **from: donghyuck**  
HAPPEN TO IT

 **from: jeno**  
can u pls not do this in the group chat

**from: jaemin**  
NOOOOOOOOO

**from: jaemin**  
i have a good excuse hold on 

**from: donghyuck**  
u better?????

**from: jaemin**  
lsdkfaalsf guess

**from: jaemin**  
who

**from: jaemin**  
i

**from: jaemin**  
just

**from: jaemin**  
bumped

**from: jaemin**  
into 

**from: renjun**  
park jisung?

 **from: jeno**  
the soccer player???

 **from: jeno**  
get me his autograph xx

**from: jaemin**  
PARK JISUNG!!!!?1/1!!

**from: jaemin**  
i was born just to DIE 

**from: renjun**  
save it for ur tumblr

 **from: donghyuck**  
excuse rated -98234/10, say ur last goodbyes

**from: jaemin**  
HAVE MERCY 

**from: donghyuck**  
going once, going twice…

**from: jaemin**  
ch-cheer up babie?? :((( 

**from: renjun**  
disgusting. im locking you out for the night

 **from: donghyuck**  
gone

 **from: donghyuck**  
[photo]

 **from: jeno**  
is that fire?

 

 

Wednesday, 2:19PM

**from: jaemin**  
GUYS ALSKDFS

**from: jaemin**  
UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS 

**from: renjun**  
jisung

**from: jaemin**  
JISUNG!!!?*^%#

**from: jaemin**  
AREN’T GINGERS SUPPOSED TO BE UGLY??????? 

**from: jeno**  
they are

**from: jaemin**  
I WANT HIS CHILDREN!!!! 

**from: jeno**  
pls revisit sex ed

 **from: donghyuck**  
u don’t need to revisit sex ed when im around ;))

 **from: jeno**  
NO!!!!!!

 

 

Friday, 6:59PM

 **from: renjun**  
jaemin don’t forget to pick up groceries on ur way home

**from: jaemin**  
about that 

**from: renjun**  
I Never Want to See You Ever Again , You Are Dead to Me

**from: jaemin**  
HELP????!?!; 

**from: renjun**  
no

 **from: jeno**  
rt

**from: jaemin**  
i didn’t mean to forget the groceries!!!

**from: jaemin**  
look!!!!! 

**from: jeno**  
i certainly am looking

**from: jaemin**  
i saw jisung on my way there ok!!!

**from: jaemin**  
and then i couldn’t go there anymore 

**from: renjun**  
.

 **from: renjun**  
if i hear this abt this kid one more time

 **from: renjun**  
do i have to end him??????/ is that it?

**from: jaemin**  
NO!!!!!!! 

**from: donghyuck**  
pls do

**from: jaemin**  
what the fuck he’s like 

**from: donghyuck**  
sex on legs

**from: jaemin**  
A CHILD!!!! 

**from: donghyuck**  
You Want Him

**from: jaemin**  
AND WHAT ABOUT IT 

**from: donghyuck**  
pervert

**from: jaemin**  
hey now 

**from: renjun**  
im making the executive decision to evict you

**from: jaemin**  
what????

**from: jaemin**  
you can’t do that

**from: jaemin**  
renjun???

**from: jaemin**  
RENJUN???!!&$!!? 

_[read 7:13PM]_

 

 

Depending on who’s asking, Jaemin wouldn’t exactly say that he’s been avoiding Jisung. If he happened to slip into the nearest building right after he sees Jisung strolling through the Quad, then so what? Jaemin was supposed to meet Donghyuck there after his class anyway, and Donghyuck is a pesky bastard who never bothers to tell anyone his schedule. It’s a good thing that Jaemin’s extra early and prepared. 

What he _isn’t_ prepared for is Jisung following suit and slipping into the same building as him, and then winding up on the opposite side of the same doorway to the same classroom.

“Hi,” Jisung says. His voice is a little softer than Jaemin remembers it being, but then his nose twitches ever so slightly and Jaemin _melts_. Jisung used to make that face when he first started driving lessons and couldn’t figure out how to parallel park—Jaemin’s car suffered three dents before all was well.

He grins at Jisung, but Jisung’s smile is dimming and—oh shit, he missed the timing, right? “Hey,” he tries, but Jisung’s already turned away and Jaemin winds up greeting the back of his head. Superb.

 _Please let Donghyuck show up soon_ , Jaemin slots himself against the doorway and peers into the classroom. _If there’s any higher power out there other than Gong Yoo’s abs, now’s the time._

“Uh, what are you doing here?”

Jaemin sags against the wall in relief. Hallelujah, and all that jazz.

Except no one’s saying anything, and when Jaemin cracks an eye open to check on the situation he finds Donghyuck and Jisung staring back at _him_ , what?

“I’m waiting for you like I always do?”

“Well,” Donghyuck shrugs his bag off of his shoulder à la F4 (his mom is swooning), “this is awkward.”

 

 

Apparently, unbeknownst to Jaemin, Jisung and Donghyuck had hit it off after their freak mutual right-swipe and grown tired of the limited 21st century courting norms that the combination of Tinder, Snapchat, and Facebook had afforded them (“I can only tag him in so many subtle asian traits posts before it gets old,” Donghyuck had sighed, sucking at the ice cubes in his glass), so they decided to upgrade to actual personal interactions.

Case in point: Jaemin finds himself crashing their first date two hours later, Donghyuck having deemed Jisung’s eyebrow raise as total consent for Jaemin to tag along. 

From what he can tell, it wasn’t—when Donghyuck asks for their reservation Jisung eyes him up and down warily before turning back to his phone. Ouch.

To be fair, Jaemin doesn’t really want to be there either. It looks like Jisung’s finally done playing catch-up and now his achingly oversized limbs have settled themselves into some form of fluidity. Each time he laughs a hand goes up to cover his mouth and Jaemin only has time to see his eyes crinkle shut before that too, gets smothered. At one point he almost knocks over Donghyuck’s water and the resounding giggles, all bubbly and breathy, make Jaemin want to stuff his cheeks with bread. 

(He almost does—the starter they’d ordered came with a piece of sourdough on the side that Jaemin had claimed for himself before Donghyuck could get to it and he’d already started leaning across the table before smashing it into his own mouth at the last second upon seeing Jisung’s questioning gaze.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He needs to keep his hands to himself.)

“So?” Donghyuck asks, folding his arms across the table, “how’s college, Jisung?”

Jaemin wrinkles his nose. That was a very… un-Donghyuck-like thing to say. Actually, that’s probably the least Donghyuck-like thing Jaemin’s heard him say, ever, and it isn’t until Jisung starts answering that Jaemin realizes what struck him wrong: _Oh my god, Donghyuck’s acting like a_ dad. _Is Jisung a sugar baby now?_

“…and that’s really all I’ve been doing.” Jaemin’s head whips up to catch the tail end of whatever Jisung’s saying, who shrugs a little self-consciously in response. “I know it’s nothing interesting, but it’s been keeping me busy.”

“You hear that, Jaemin?” Donghyuck nudges Jaemin’s shoulder, and Jaemin winces. Donghyuck is _so_ bony, god.

“Yeah,” he blurts, and then instantly regrets it when Jisung’s eyes swivel to face him. “That sounds… interesting.”

“What sounds interesting?”

Donghyuck’s looking at him with entirely feigned concern, that bastard.

“Um. Like your,” Jaemin waves a hand around ambiguously, “classes sound nice.”

Jisung squints at him. “I was talking about clubs I wanted to join?”

“Right!” Jaemin squeaks, “I knew that.”

A few seconds of silence pass, before Donghyuck finally takes pity on him and manages to drag the conversation away from Jaemin’s awful attempts at normalcy and toward something else that Jaemin doesn’t really care to listen to. He keeps his head down and picks at his food in silence, but he can still feel Jisung boring holes into him as he shuffles his feet under the table.

In the few moments that he’s able to keep his head up, Jaemin can see that Donghyuck and Jisung mesh well together. There’s an easy give-and-take every time Donghyuck’s eyes curve from laughter and Jisung’s mouth quirks into a little self-satisfied expression. Even though they met on _Tinder_ , of all places, even though Jaemin’s known both of them far longer than they’ve known each other, it still feels as if he’s the odd one out right now. Jisung catches him looking, soft smile fading slowly, and Jaemin feels so, so cold.

 

 

Here’s the thing: Jaemin _used to know_ Jisung.

How could he not? When you grow up attached at the hip from the metaphorical womb (except not even all that metaphorical, because Jaemin had been swaddled into his baby carrier in the corner of the hospital room that Jisung was born in and his mother had knocked him over in her haste to see baby Jisung—so really, it’s almost like the same thing), you’re bound to eventually wind up in some sort of uneasy limbo where the only thing you can really say to each other is _hi_ and _bye_.

So Jaemin used to know Jisung but now he doesn’t, and that distinction’s important because it means that things used to be like—

This: Two boys against a cherry sky, strapped in tightly to the rusting wagon that had been a hand-me-down from the lady who brought them kimchi every Thanksgiving—it had been her grandchildrens’ and she had no use for it anymore, so Jaemin and Jisung spent an afternoon repurposing it as best as they could in the small space they’d cleared out in Jisung’s garage. 

_Let’s name it Dream!_ Jisung had cheered, and Jaemin was smiling so hard that he couldn’t see anything when he began pushing the wagon up the hill behind the playground, letting the sun drench the back of his neck before the last vestiges of summer slipped away for the year.

Jaemin had clambered in after giving them a running start, but they hadn’t had the foresight to put in any sort of steering mechanism and as a result careened headfirst into the lake at the bottom of the hill, the lone swan honking madly at them before they’d managed to pull themselves out of the mud and shuffle back home. Jisung had waved at him, bright and merry, eyes twinkling, before his mom had caught sight of their muddied appearances and screamed.

Or maybe this: Backstage, five minutes before the show. Their Korean school had pulled the short end of the stick and gotten stuck with doing the opening dance of the town’s annual Seollal event, so Jisung stood across the stage from him at the other end with his hair slicked back ever so slightly. The baji of his hanbok hung low, as if to overcompensate for the three inches that Jisung’s mom had had to take off after Jisung accidentally wore them to rehearsals and scuffed them up against the floor.

Jaemin had been slightly luckier—he’d begged off the opening dance by promising to join the daegeum group with his six months of lessons that he’d taken in kindergarten, and that had been enough for him to have stood hidden in the wings as Jisung jumped nervously every time someone set off music. 

_You’ll be okay_ , he tried to mouth, but then the lights dimmed and the music started for real and Jisung had rushed out too quickly to see.

Or how about this: Jaemin clutching tightly at his cap each time the wind went by because he’d accidentally ordered a size too large and now the tassel flopped all over the place. Jisung, sat next to his parents, small bouquet tucked under his seat. Jaemin had seen it peeking out between everyone’s feet because he’d given up listening to the ceremony and was just waiting for them to call out _Jaemin, Na_ , and for his parents to start clicking away at their phones and for Jisung to rush up the stairs after the ceremony and say _congratulations on your graduation_. Jaemin had murmured back an _aww, now don’t sound too sad to see me go_ and Jisung had rolled his eyes with a _you’re such a dumbass,_ before pulling Jaemin in for a hug and whispering _I’ll miss you_. Jaemin would miss him too. 

Two years is a long time to wait.

 

 

 **from: unknown number**  
hey jaemin this is jisung <(￣︶￣)>

 **from: unknown number**  
bumping into u and donghyuck hyung the other day made me think that we should catch up some time!

 **from: unknown number**  
what do u think? (＾▽＾)

Jaemin lets out a scream: shrill, teakettle gone wrong. “Why does he call _you_ hyung?”

Donghyuck frowns. “Sound a little less offended, will you?” He bats his eyelashes. “I’m a catch.”

It’s the morning right before Jaemin’s set to take his calc midterm. He still needs to cram a month’s worth of Riemann sums into his head. He doesn’t have time for this.

“He’s never called me hyung,” Jaemin hisses, and maybe it’s because he’s running on no sleep right now, but that fact makes his stomach coil up in knots. “We’re in America,” Jaemin says in his best Jisung imitation (Squeaky, rough, and slightly prepubescent? Wait—that’s just Noah Centineo). “Why should I call you hyung?”

Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe it’s a kink.”

“He would never!” Jaemin shrieks and launches the nearest weapon at Donghyuck’s head. His poor brain.

“I’m just saying!” Donghyuck shouts, batting away the banana headed for his face, “he must’ve been on Tinder for a reason!”

“Absolutely insane,” Jaemin huffs, slamming his head back in defeat. He drags himself over to his backpack to double-check that all his review notes are there before pulling back to look at Donghyuck. “You’re a menace and I can’t stand you.”

He lets the door slam behind him, but not before Donghyuck manages to chirp out “love you too!” 

He’s going to fail his midterm.

 

 

In spite of all his shortcomings as a roommate (constantly demands that Jaemin make him food, stinks up the living room with his bath salts, gets freaked out in the middle of the night by the radiator), Renjun is a pretty good friend.

For instance, Renjun busies himself with clearing away the mess they left on the coffee table from their last movie night so that Jaemin doesn’t have to look at Renjun in the eye when he tells him about Donghyuck and Jisung. 

“Is it bad that I feel kind of jealous?” Jaemin wonders as he rolls back on the couch to face the ceiling. Something ugly twists in his chest, fleeting. It dissipates as soon as he concludes, “but I’m more… sad jealous.” 

Renjun doesn’t reply, just hums and sweeps away the fruit peels.

Jaemin considers it. Who is he even jealous of? It’s not anyone in particular, he’s fairly certain of that. But the kind of familiarity that comes with knowing someone—the way he can sink his heels into Renjun’s lap as he whines about how the portal for class sign-ups is out to get him—that’s what he’s missing. Maybe he’s just doomed to never know Jisung ever again. 

“Is it weird to miss someone that you used to know?” He asks next, a little too choked to sound casual, and Renjun pauses from his spot on the floor.

“This is about Jisung, right?” Renjun sighs and drags a hand through his hair. Jaemin feels kind of bad—Renjun’s been busy these past few days tracking down where the last of their student government budget went. Jaemin doesn’t really see him around lately, unless you count the clean dishes he finds drying on their kitchen countertop in the mornings (which are the only evidence Jaemin has that he has been, in fact, living with another human being and not some wickedly realistic holographic projection for the past three years). 

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Renjun shrugs, nonchalant, but when he turns to look at Jaemin his eyes are fond. “It’s kind of inevitable that you’ll drift apart from people in your life. Maybe you’ll drift back together at some point, but that’s up to you.”

Jaemin snorts. “I doubt it, now that he and Donghyuck are a thing.” 

“Jaemin, I don’t think—” Renjun grimaces and clenches the dustpan tighter. Jaemin shudders—he’s pretty sure that that dustpan is Renjun’s replacement for his neck right now. Renjun clears his throat and starts again. “Jaemin, Donghyuck’s trying to get with Jeno. You have absolutely no competition to worry about.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you’re this blind,” Renjun mutters, before turning to face Jaemin, eyes glassy. “Don’t you see it? Donghyuck never lets go of Jeno if he can help it.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says slowly. He files that tidbit away on the backburner of his brain for some other time, because more importantly: “But I thought he was dating Jisung? I sort of crashed their first date.”

Renjun scrunches up his nose. “Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Jaemin hisses, “Donghyuck _invited_ me. What was I supposed to say?”

“No, I will not crash your first date, because I’m a sensible human being who recognizes social cues and knows when to get out of the way?” 

“Wait.” Jaemin squints, then sinks back onto the couch in horror. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“If Donghyuck invited me, that probably means he didn’t think it was a date—”

“—but Jisung did,” finishes Renjun, and they both stare at each other in disbelief.

“This cannot be my life right now.” Jaemin mutters, glancing closely at his hands. “I can’t believe I’m caught up in a love triangle—but wait, if Donghyuck likes Jeno, then isn’t this a love square? But that means Jeno would have to like _me_. Ew, that can’t be real, pinch me.” He yelps and cradles his hand close to his chest, hissing at the angry welt forming between his thumb and index finger. “That was a fucking rhetorical request!”

“You asked for it,” Renjun shrugs.

“It’s just—why would Donghyuck choose Jeno when Jisung’s right there? Donghyuck _knows_ I got mono from Jeno during spin the bottle in seventh grade and he still wants to get with that?” Jaemin sniffs. “Tasteless.”

“Okay, whatever, sure,” Renjun says through a yawn, “but shouldn’t you try and set the record straight with Jisung about how Donghyuck’s taken? Emotionally? Hopefully physically too, because I don’t want to hear another word from him about Jeno’s figure?”

“He _has_ been getting slinkier,” Jaemin muses. “I think it’s just because he’s finally wearing clothes that actually fit him.”

“Jaemin,” Renjun groans, head thumping against the coffee table. “Maybe I should warn Donghyuck to watch out for _you_.”

He winks. “You should.”

“I’m ignoring that,” Renjun continues delicately. “But anyway, you can’t let Donghyuck lead Jisung on. It’s not fair to him.”

Jaemin whines and slumps downwards, molding himself into the couch. “I know,” he mutters, “but I don’t want to be the one to break the news to him.”

“Someone has to.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want it to be me!”

Renjun frowns. “Why not?”

Jaemin shrugs, trying to project an aura of nonchalance that’s a little more artificial than he’s willing to admit. “I don’t want to hurt him if I can help it.” 

“He’s in _college_ ,” Renjun says, “you can’t baby him for the rest of his life.”

“Can we go back to talking about how Jeno gave me mono?” Jaemin’s voice is getting progressively higher, wobbly and shrill. “Because I don’t think we’ve exhausted that topic yet. Can you believe the nerve of him—”

“Jaemin,” Renjun cuts in, and he deflates like bubblegum.

“Yeah, okay.” He shrugs, chest hollow. “I’ll do it.”

 

 

Jaemin’s not a big believer in almost anything. Renjun might be absolutely enamoured with star charts and aliens and ghosts and whatnot but Jaemin could care less—he’s pretty sure that even if he somehow _did_ see a ghost, he’d just wave at it. Humans are way scarier.

Like, for instance, the human currently sitting in front of him.

Jisung’s huddled himself into a worn hoodie that advertises a sleepaway camp the two of them used to go to, copper bangs mussed frightfully. It’s a good thing that Jaemin had called Donghyuck and asked him if he though wearing a tie would’ve been overkill—Jisung looks like he’d just rolled out of bed. If Jaemin squints he can maybe still see the pillow imprints on Jisung’s cheeks.

After much deliberation, they’d decided to meet up at the dining hall closest to the law library. _Neutral territory_ , echoes a voice that sounds suspiciously like Renjun. Jaemin shakes his head to clear it and grins at Jisung expectantly. His eye twitches ever so slightly.

“Hi,” Jisung mumbles, word passed carefully through his mouth. He watches Jaemin for his reaction afterward, and Jaemin’s heart flip-flops at the sight.

Jisung used to do that too, whenever he met new kids. He kept his guard up but let a couple of words, a couple of expressions pass every now and then, like secret notes slid under door frames. To see him clamber back inside after so long, vibrating in his seat like reverb—Jaemin’s a little more nervous now, to say the least.

He snaps himself back to the dining hall. Jisung’s still waiting for an answer.

“Hi,” he offers back. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jisung murmurs, and then dissolves into silence. The bustle of the dining hall continues around them, but their own little pocket of space starts to feel suffocating.

“Look,” Jaemin bursts, drumming his hands on the table, “I’ll get straight to it.” He sucks in air between his teeth and then whooshes it all out. “Do you like Donghyuck?”

“…Yes? I think he’s really funny, and he’s your friend, right? So you must like him too.” Jisung frowns at him, eyebrows furrowed together like small worms. 

Jaemin blinks, groggily, before the words set in and he grimaces. “Okay, but do you like him as anything more than a friend?”

“No,” Jisung scrunches his face, looking like he’d just inhaled all of the lemons in the dining hall (and there were a lot of lemons—the menu was “Fresh Catch from the Sea.”)

“Oh.” Jaemin slumps in his chair. That was unexpected.

“You think I like him? No way,” Jisung smirks, eyes curving in amusement. “Like he’s great and all, but he’s so loud. And dramatic. That’s not really my type.” He cocks his head to the side. “Plus, doesn’t he like Jeno?”

“What?” Jaemin gapes at him, mouth dry. He could resemble a frog right now, for all he cares. “How the hell do you know about that? I didn’t even know until Renjun told me.”

Jisung pinches the bridge of his nose. “How do I put this? Jaemin,” he starts, “you’re not exactly known for being… _observant_.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes at him. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve,” Jisung blurts, and then slaps a hand over his mouth. The tips of his ears burn fire-red.

“Really?” Jaemin asks, a little bashfully.

Jisung grins in response. “Yeah.”

 

 

Here’s the thing: Jaemin knew Jisung. 

How could he not?

Well—he actually didn’t, at one point, and now he does, but that’s not really the point.

What matters more is how Jaemin latches himself unnervingly onto the back of Jisung’s hoodies, koala-ed around him as he waddles through the snow on his way to class, or the way he flinches when Jaemin blows raspberries at him when he tries to dodge Jaemin’s attempts at flapping his cheeks, or how Jisung whispers to him late one night: _you know I swiped right on Donghyuck because I knew he was your friend, right?_

And while there may have been a few speed bumps down the line (“You thought Jisung liked _me?!_ ” Donghyuck guffaws, clutching at his stomach, doubled over, “I knew you were dense but oh my god,” he swipes at his eyes, “this is a whole new level,”) Jaemin wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> [clears throat]: anyway…… [jaem go freak](http://cfile234.uf.daum.net/original/99ED204E5C65ADAA02FA99)
> 
> find me on! ⟶ [twitter](https://twitter.com/mythsick) // [cc](https://curiouscat.me/elsewhere) // [listo](https://listography.com/spearmint)


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